


Four Arms and Two Faces

by Bawgdan



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Drabble, F/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-07
Updated: 2019-05-07
Packaged: 2020-02-27 13:02:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 633
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18739576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bawgdan/pseuds/Bawgdan
Summary: Hisoka isn't a good communicator—only knows how to give in to his extreme inclinations.





	Four Arms and Two Faces

 

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"Why now after all this time?"

There's not much that is a mystery to Hisoka. He wouldn't go as far as to say that he has all the answers. Some things he still has to figure out—he is a slow learner when it comes to language. Specifically the language of empathy. The natural silence gives him time to think about what he wants to say, but he runs out of it because Machi's aura sets fire to the walls. 

"I don't know." He rubs the side of his face and his cheeks deflate.

Of course, that isn't a good enough answer for Machi. She did things in a specific order and every function throughout her day has purpose. She doesn't clutter her life with unnecessary junk. 

"I think you just like knowing I'm in pain." Machi has a monk's stoicism.

"You don't look like you're in pain." Hisoka smiles out of habit. 

"It's not that kind of pain. You know it's not." Her expression doesn't need to change. Unhappiness is in her closed off body language. She has her arms folded around her chest. Hisoka read it in a book once that meant she is creating a mental barrier. It was a book that taught him how to be a better liar.

"What do _you_ want _me_ to say?" He figures if she says it first, he won't have to, but he underestimates her intuition. Machi knows him well now. She can't exactly tell when he is lying but she listens to her gut instincts. Cats can't talk but they know when a storm is coming.

"How you really feel?" She finally tilts her head to gaze at him.

Hisoka gets up from the bed then kneels between her legs. Resting his arms on her knees he looks her dead in the eyes for an incredibly long time. Her body temperatures changes. Beneath her the bed turns into an icy cold body of water.

"Why is it so hard for you to talk like a normal person?" She mumbles.

"Because I'm not a normal person. You're only normal when it's convenient. We aren't normal people." He retorts disgustingly pragmatic.

"I don't think it's fair that I've been forced to accept your empty-headedness." 

"My head is plenty full."

"Full of what?"

His mouths shrinks from a smile.

"Promise you won't tell anyone?" Hisoka is very serious.

"Who else would it matter to?" She breathes disbelievingly.

He holds up his hands to his face, applying more weight to her knees but she is strong enough to carry him and his issues on her back. Even though she doesn't want to.

"You can't domesticate a feral cat."

"Hisoka. You're not a cat."

Machi might like this newly discovered weakness but Hisoka hates it. He enjoys the formula of two people but now he can't exactly get up and go wherever he pleases without having to confront his guilt. He thought he had killed his ability to feel shame. Now he has to deal with the very real understanding of being human—turns out he isn't exempt from wanting things of sentimental value.

"You're my extra pair of arms and the eyes on the back of my head." He resolves.

"That makes you stronger." Machi runs a hand through his hair.

"For some odd reason, it doesn't feel that way." Hisoka glares at her between his fingers.

"I think that's the first time you've ever spoken without it being a riddle." She thumps his forehead.

If you're not a poet, there aren't many creative ways to tell someone you love them.

Hisoka drops his hands from his face to wrap his arms around her waist, pressing his nose in her stomach and inhaling the clean smell of her clothes. Right now, he feels strongly about her. 

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**Author's Note:**

> Still throwing darts at ideas. I really don't know what this is. I just haven't updated in a while and felt weird having not do so. I'm not actually sure what point I was trying to convey with this. We can all just write it off as word vomit. Any errors I will get around to fixing. Thank you for reading.


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